


A Tint of Blue

by The_Marron



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Angst, Battle of Five Armies, Character Study, M/M, soul-mate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 06:23:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2955542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Marron/pseuds/The_Marron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colour soul-mate au, where people begin to see colours after they meet their mate. </p><p>Meeting Gandalf , gathering the company, getting over the fact that most of his peers refused to support his claim - it all took his mind far away from matters of heart, so unimportant to begin with. The fire of hope was burning inside him, an old flame, that reawakened, could not be brought down with no amount of disdain or ignorance. When he finally completed his company, fewer in numbers than he wished it to be, when he survived the last act of indifference from his own kin, when he finally have found his way around the Shire , he had nothing on his mind other than Erebor.</p><p>And then the marked door opened and the only thing he could think of was that apparently, the doors were green.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tint of Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [northerntrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/northerntrash/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Colour-struck](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1687616) by [northerntrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/northerntrash/pseuds/northerntrash). 



Thorin was sure that colours were not necessary in one's life. He could appreciate and love jewels and his homeland's great halls without seeing them in colour. It didn't matter, whether his chambers were grey or green, it mattered that they were his.

Maybe, if Erebor hadn't fell he would have finally see the need to find his mate and then he would appreciate the world unfolding in something else than different shades of grey and white. But, Erebor had fallen and finding a soul-mate now would be bothersome to say the least. While the idea before was not really appealing, now it was repelling. And, in fact, Thorin didn't even have the time to worry about such trifles.

Meeting Gandalf , gathering the company, getting over the fact that most of his peers refused to support his claim - it all took his mind far away from matters of heart, so unimportant to begin with. The fire of hope was burning inside him, an old flame, that reawakened, could not be brought down with no amount of disdain or ignorance. When he finally completed his company, fewer in numbers than he wished it to be, when he survived the last act of indifference from his own kin, when he finally have found his way around the Shire , he had nothing on his mind other than Erebor.

And then the marked door opened and the only thing he could think of was that apparently, the doors were green.

In front of him stood a Halfling. A very disgruntled, yet surprised Halfling. A Halfling dressed in a white shirt and a brown vest. How he could name colours, Thorin was not sure. Yes, his father told him how to distinguish the shades of grey and associate them with the proper colour names, but he never thought that those names came so instinctively. Then, the realization sank in. He saw the Halfling and colours.

No. Not now. He had other things on his mind and he would not be deterred. The Halfling was looking at him with a strange, curious glint in his eye. So, the Halflings had soul-mates as well. It complicated things. Not bothering with any kind greeting, he scrutinized the hobbit, looking for any sign of his being a burglar, since that's what the creature was meant to be. He found none. The hobbit truly looked like a grocer and frankly, Thorin did not believe the poor lad would even go with them, not to mention staying till the very end and robbing a dragon. Just as he thought. A useless bond to a useless creature.

He joined his comrades and began planning, not paying any attention to the Halfling whatsoever. It would be a waste of time anyway- accepting the bond was out of question, especially since the Halfling was staying here. Actually, it would be for the best. Thorin would go, would learn the new tints the world could give him, he would see his home in its true glory and he would stay unattached - his 'mate' would stay here safe, with nothing pulling him towards Thorin. Or so Thorin thought, as he left the Shire with the rest of the dwarrows, singing merrily, chatting and making bets about their poor excuse of a burglar. So of course the blasted creature had to join them. Sweaty and unsure, the Burglar approached Balin and gave him the contract. For a moment, Thorin hoped that Balin would find an error that would stop the Halfling right there, but he knew it was no use. Fate wanted him to join the company, so join the company he did. But that did not weaver Thorin's resolve. 

* * *

 

The longer the Burglar travelled with them, the more Thorin was certain of his decision.

The creature was a comfort-loving, cowardly, unprepared good-for-nothing. He could not ride a pony, he could not fight, he could not survive on less than three meals a day and his greatest tragedy seemed to be a lack of handkerchiefs. Not to mention his shrieking every time some animal tried to approach them.

After two weeks, Thorin truly wished to lose the Halfling somewhere on the way.

And then, the trolls debacle took place. They had hardly left the homeland of the Halfling and he already had managed to get them into trouble. Yes, Fili and Kili had lost the ponies, and yes, he was right to try to steal them, but for Mahal's sake, if one cannot steal, a fire made by three hungry trolls was not a place to educate oneself. But no, the Halfling had to go and get himself caught. When the monsters threatened to rip the hobbit into halves, Thorin wasseriously tempted to let them do just that.

But, the urge disappeared quickly and he laid down his weapon. He would not want to be remembered as a king who did not try to save his companion. Not to mention the fact, that had the matter sometime come up, leaving his soul-mate behind with no fight would certainly bring him only dishonour. That, and he grew accustomed to many different shades of blue and green he started to perceive. When the hobbit started to buy them time, Thorin noticed instantly, possibly because of their 'bond'. Or maybe he was just unusually perceptive this one time. Nevertheless, after they were saved by Gandalf, Thorin did not see any reason to congratulate the hobbit. He got them into this mess in the first place. Had he been more skilled like he was meant to be, had he been more careful, had he been better, this would have never happened. So, no, Thorin did not think that saving them from trolls did the hobbit any favours. Strangely enough, it seemed to be the case with other companions, at least with Fili and Kili, who started to act almost friendly towards the failed Burglar. After some time Bombur had also started to warm up to the hobbit and Thorin was surprised. Dwarfish regard was not easily won nor willingly given, especially to other races. But that meant nothing.

It only meant that the Burglar was seen as not threatening, which did not bode for him well.

 

* * *

 

When they have reached Rivendell, Thorin could for the first time truly appreciate the lack of his previous colour-blindness. Despite his opinion of Elves, he could admire their halls and their gardens. In one of them, shortly after their arrival, he was accosted by Balin.

"Since when does Thorin Oakenshield notice the flowers?" Thorin startled and considered for a moment. He opted to go with truth. Lying to a companion was a dirty practice and the matter was not that important to conceal it.

" I started a month ago." He could see Balin doing his mental counting.

"Since the Shire, by any chance?" Thorin nodded in affirmation.

"But... Was it someone on your road there?" Thorin knew Balin long enough to understand, that the older dwarf already has his answer, he just wanted Thorin to admit it out loud.

"No. The first colour I saw was the door of our Burglar's house. That should answer your question." This time Balin nodded, seeming deeply in thought.

"Then you are doing an awful job of using the bond between you and Mister Baggins." He finally replied, disappointment evident in his tone.

"Because I don't intend to have any kind of bond with Mister Baggins. I am surprised any of you is willing to do so." Balin was fond of the hobbit since the beginning. Being the oldest of them he probably developed a fondness for young, fragile things , therefore Thorin couldn't blame him. But he was under no obligation to indulge in this tendency himself.

"He was chosen by Gandalf. And I am sure, that he has some good qualities. He is loyal."

"On what example do you base your opinion? I have seen him represent many things, but loyalty was not one of them." Thorin replied, slightly louder than he intended to. He was disappointed. He was disappointed with Gandalf, for giving them an inadequate burglar and for leading them to Elves. He was disappointed with the hobbit for being everything Thorin's soul-mate shouldn't be. He was disappointed with his company for accepting the grocer and most importantly, he was disappointed with himself for appreciating the colours too much to get rid of the bond permanently. He was well aware that bonds, just like everything in the world, when ignored and not cared for properly could break. They could end with death of one of the partners and they could end when one of them broke the bond alongside the other's heart. He might've care very little for the hobbit, but he did not wish him dead nor was he fond of the idea of breaking the creature's heart. On the other hand, the hobbit was not acting as if he had been trying to act on their bond either. He did not approach Thorin, he did not try to convince Thorin to like him. Maybe the Halfling had some sense of pride in him,or maybe he just wasn't interested in Thorin, just as Thorin was not interested in him. Maybe he too was fond of colours and nothing else.

"He is still with us. For someone who has his own house and enough gold to resign from his share of the treasure he seems to be pretty bent on accompanying us, even if half of the company either ignores him or scorns him." With that, Balin left Thorin in the garden.

Maybe, the Halfling felt some mystical pull towards him, not loyalty. That Thorin could understand. 

* * *

 

During the journey through the mountains filled with battling mountain giants Thorin was once again forced to save the Halfling's life and this time he decided to voice his dissatisfaction. Yes, he might've been harsh, even too harsh, but no other member of the company ever caused such trouble and demanded aid every step of the way. Thorin wanted to be a good king, but selling the whole quest for a life of one, only one,  who did not have anything in common with quest's goals and ideals - that would not be wise, bond or no bond. So maybe he was cruel when he shouted at the Burglar, when he told him that he did not belong, but that' was what he had to do. Apart from that,the Halfling truly made him angry. If he was Thorin mate, he should at least try to act like it, for Mahal's sake!

So, while Thorin pretended to sleep, he welcomed with relief the sound of quiet steps as the hobbit tried to get past the dwarrows. Even though, he felt something when he heard the Halfling's dejected words. Thorin was certain of his decision to sending the poor creature away, but for a moment, his vision swayed and grayness started to engulf everything. It was terrifying.

And then the ground shook and Thorin had other things to worry about than his bond. They were surrounded by goblins.

* * *

 

After Gandalf came to their rescue and led them back to the surface, Thorin's thoughts travelled back to the Halfling. When other companions started to look around for him, Thorin accepted the fact, that the Burglar was gone for good. He knew that he was alive, because the colour was back and he knew that the Halfling was not among the company in goblin's imprisonment. It was a logical assumption ,that he finally chose what was good for him and the company and left them. The only thing that did not make any sense was the anger and disappointment that burned inside Thorin, as if he expected, wanted, the hobbit to stay.

And in the end, it turned out that he had. He even gave a reason for staying with them, claiming to be moved by their homelessness and altruistic need of helping. But he was looking at Thorin while saying it. Maybe the Halfling was trying to make him look bad? Maybe he tried to guilt Thorin into admitting his worth? The answer never came, because the wargs had arrived.

In few moments the entire place was swarmed by the pack and all Thorin could think about was his company and getting them to safety. The trees seemed like the only option they had, but even they couldn't stop the enemy. When Azog came into Thorin's view, everything else flew away. This filthy monster that killed his kin, that occupied Moria was still breathing. The whiteness of his skin was now jarring, constrasting with the forest around them. What happened next, Thorin could not recall very well, mostly due to many things happening at the same time. The rest of the company shouting, Gandalf still throwing fire at the wolves, the trees giving up and falling.

And in the middle of it all, there he stood.

That blasted villain, now even more hateful with all of the colours around him. It made perfect sense to go to him and end all of this. No help would come for them and maybe, if Thorin was dead, Azog would let the company go, he had no use of them either way. Or maybe, Thorin's death would buy precious minutes that will help the rest of his companions escape. Maybe he will win. Unfortunately, the lack of food and imprisonment in goblin kingdom took their toll on him, since he could not defeat the orc. Mahal, he could only barely defend himself. And after a while, he wasn't even able to do that. Before he could say goodbye to this world, a small figure crashed into Azog, taking his attention from Thorin's barely conscious form lying below.

Closing his eyes, Thorin thought of golden eagles.

* * *

 

When he woke up, he was surrounded by friends and his mind overflowing with emotion. The bond he usually ignored was now soaring with pride and happiness, so he couldn't stop himself from proclaiming his gratitude and hugging the hobbit. He still was not going to get emotionally involved, of that he was sure, but he could accept the hobbit as a worthy companion, as someone whose goals were close to his. As a proud member of the company. After bidding their goodbyes to the eagles, the whole company went down with cheer. Thorin's acceptance of Bilbo seemed to settle something within the rest of the dwarrows, for they started to mingle. While before they were on friendly terms with each other, now the true camaraderie could be felt inside the group, as if facing many dangers together could be valued like many years spent as friends.

 When they managed to convince Beorn not to slaughter them, but to help them instead, these few days they have spent there were possibly the happiest during they whole journey. Ori was finally able to enjoy books which were lacking on the way here, aside from Rivendell, and share his passion with the hobbit, who for the first time in months seemed content to be with the company. Bofur, the one who stopped the Burglar from leaving in the goblin cave was now pestering the Halfling about many types of hobbit pipe weed, while Bombur made use of Beorn's supplies and made them food, consulting his ideas with the Halfling. The evenings became a pleasant matter, full of laughter and songs, some being sung by the dwarrows, some by the hobbit, full of reminiscence and general happiness.

Thorin was almost saddened to leave Beorn's house, but every step he took apart from it meant another step towards the Lonely Mountain. And what else could have any meaning?

* * *

 

The ability to see colours was not helping anyone during their journey through the Mirkwood. Thorin knew that Gloin, Bombur, Dori, the hobbit and himself were affected the most by the drowsy, changing landscape of a forest that made them leave their path. The leaves and the grass mixed together, obscuring the sun and making it difficult to differentiate ground from the trees. The colours blended, creating new ones that mind could not understand, leaving the company confused and apathetic.

The hobbit had disappeared and Thorin could not for the life of him remember, why it should bother him as it did.

Then, the black shapes came and nothing made sense.

* * *

 

When he was brought to Thranduil, all Thorin could think about was the hobbit. Mostly, because he did not see him when the Elves had captured the company. What  surprised him, was his own strong belief, that the Halfling did not abandon them. Did not abandon him.

If he was nowhere to be seen, it meant that the rescue was still an option. Maybe having that hope could explain,  why Thorin had allowed himself to openly insult the Elvenking. Or maybe it was just his hunger, weakness and anger, clashing with Thranduil's being his cowardly, insufferable self. Nevertheless, now Thorin trusted their Burglar,  like he told Balin after he was led back to his cell.

He had been waiting a few days, or at least what he supposed was a few days, for the light in Elven kingdom could deceive anyone, when the Halfling appeared. By that time, Thorin was starting to doubt himself and all the hope he felt before.

What's worse, he started to worry. What if the Halfling was being kept somewhere else? What if he was still in the woods, alone and afraid, waiting for them to save him? The colours were still intact in Thorin's vision, so he could be sure that the hobbit was still alive. But, surprisingly, this knowledge did nothing to calm him. The hobbit was braver than anyone would assume and he truly had no other motive than pure compassion to help them. He did not deserve to be left alone. Before he could voice his fear to Balin, he felt a kind of calmness overwhelming him and there the Burglar was - standing just in front of Thorin's cell, looking exhausted but determined.

"I have found everyone. You two were the last ones. I still don't know how to get you out, but at least I can deliver messages." He said and for a moment Thorin had no idea what to say. He just wanted to put his arms around that fragile creature and communicate his gratitude and admiration. But that was not time or space for affection. Maybe after regaining Erebor he could consider his previous judgment of their bond, but now was not the time.

"Good job, Mister Burglar." He said instead and it seemed enough, for some pressure disappeared from Halfling's eyes." You should get some rest now, you won't help anyone unconscious." he meant it to be reassuring, caring maybe, but the hobbit's face suggested that it came out too harshly.

"Since I am the one free and you are the one being held captive, let me decide what to do with myself." Came the quiet, yet firm reply.

"We appreciate your fatigue, Bilbo, we really do. I think Thorin just wanted you to take better care of yourself, you look awful!" Balin smoothly cut into the conversation, taking the hobbit's attention from Thorin.

"Still better than you, in your little cells." This reply was not biting, just tired. After the last look sent in Thorin's direction, the hobbit was gone.

"Well, at least you are trying." Thorin did not have to see Balin's face to detect amusement.

* * *

 

The hobbit was now making his appearances almost every day, bearing even further signs of a serious lack of sleep. He delivered short reports from Dwalin and Fili, he also reported  how the rest of the company was holding up. On one occasion he appeared when Balin was asleep, bringing Thorin the wonderful news of the feast being prepared.

" Especially the king seems to be fond of wine, there is a possibility they will be distracted enough to let us pass. We will escape through the cellars." Said the hobbit, sitting down with his back to the bars. "Pardon my manners, but I really did not have time to rest and now there is no one here."

Thorin moved nearer the bars.

"Mister Bagg... Bilbo." He corrected himself, as gently as possible covering the hobbit's hand with his own. "You should not be wary of me."

"I am not." Came the answer, as the hobbit turned towards Thorin. "I simply don't want you to be disappointed with me again. It is hurtful."

A wave of shame hit him. But before he could say anything to defend or explain himself, Bilbo reassumed.

"I know that we are not mentioning this.. thing with colours and I don't want to do that. But, since you stopped loathing me openly, it got easier to bear with it and I intend to keep it that way."

"Oh" Amazing, how it never crossed Thorin's mind that the Halfling could feel the bond as deeply as him. Dwalin was right in saying that sometimes Thorin couldn't see anything aside from his Honourable Ego. After he takes back his home, he shall change that.

"One thing you can be sure of. You have my respect." He confessed. The hand he was holding twitched slightly, but hobbit's expression didn't change. It was stilled in a pleasant, yet hardened smile.

"And you have mine, Thorin Oakenshield."

* * *

 

Escaping with barrels was not the best way of escaping Thorin could think of, but it had worked. As long as no one counted Kili's injury, but Thorin was now reasonable enough not to blame it on the hobbit. Especially since the poor burglar got sick after their arrival in Lake City. While the rest of the company was feasting with the people in Master's house, Thorin found himself yearning to check, whether the hobbit was alright.

It was like a basic need, like obsession, just to see, just to talk.

But he was not stupid, as Dwalin often claimed he was, not so reckless. He knew, that by opening up to the hobbit he was allowing their bond to grow. It was bad enough that he cared about the Halfling. Not the right time for such distractions. Erebor was just behind the lake.

Even Kili's sickness could not stop him now. What kind of a king would abandon the whole quest for one dwarf? Even from the family, it was a wrong choice, staying with him would be an obvious choice for an uncle, but an unlikely one for a king, especially for a king whose time was running short. Durin's day was upon them.

They were almost there.

* * *

 

Bilbo had found the door. Now that he saved them all, calling him a Halfling would be disrespectful, even if only in privacy of one's thoughts. He had found the door. And finally, the years of longing, years of hopes and dreams were there. He could touch every stone he dreamed of every night. For the first time he was able to see them in their full glory, and plain happiness surged through his veins. His home was even more beautiful that he remembered it, and it was his once again. And all of this because of a one, small, brave hobbit, who went down to face the dragon. Suddenly, calling him by his name did not seem as a good idea. Names meant attachment and forming one with a Burglar meant to steal from the dragon was particularly foolish. For a moment, Thorin felt as if his consciousness had split in two - one part of him wanted to follow Bilbo and bring him back to the safety, the other one, the one he was familiar with, the one he associated with being Thorin Oakenshield- the King Under the Mountain forced him to stay and wait. He could not endanger the quest for just one member. He knew that. But, when he said so to Balin, the older dwarf chastened him immediately. "Bilbo. His name is Bilbo." He said. _I know. I just don't want to remember_.

But, under the urging of the company, despite the fact that dragon not only was alive, but also awake, he went down to find their Burglar. Thorin assumed he was dead already. No. He couldn't be dead, because the walls were still green.

And then he saw it.

Now, it made sense why every dwarf was in love with it. Gold. Nothing, no colour could be more precious, more beautiful than that of a gold. It generated some kind of pull, as if it was creating another bond with him, just with him. Thorin knew it beofre - the gold was shiny, it was precious and worth every price. But now it was plain to see _why_. There could be nothing more exciting, nothing more marvelous than gold.

Except... Yes, there was one thing. The Arkenstone. The most splendid thing in his previously grey Erebor. Now, it was possibly the sight worth of a king. Such wealth deserved, no,  needed a king. And he was one. He was born to be one. Now he knew it for sure. With the Arkenstone, his destiny would be complete. He almost didn't notice the Halfling's appearance.

Almost.

He could have taken the jewel, couldn't he? The sword moved faster than a thought, and Thorin searched for the answer in hobbit's eyes. But... Why should the Halfling take the stone? He was bonded to Thorin, he was given to him by fates, just like the wealt of Erebor was. Bilbo and his colours were part of Thorin's hoard. Bilbo was his, just like all of this gold was. It seemed so obvious now.  What was his could never turn against him. But it should be protected.

With the rest of the company they managed to lure the beast away from the treasury, straight into the forges. One obstacle to go and the treasure was his, as it was from the beginning. They just had to get rid of this usurper, this dragon that was a threat to Thorin's wealth. Making sure that living part of his fortune was safe, he proceeded to trap the beast inside the gold, giving the treasure a worthy shape and destroying the enemy at the same time. Even though the plan failed and the beast managed to escape, the true purpose was now complete. The dragon was gone, the treasure was still here.

" It has gone to the Lake Town!" Shouted Ori, and Bilbo run alongside the company, chasing the monster to see it with their own eyes. For Thorin, it was even better. Someone at the Town will slay the dragon.

And even if not, what difference did it make? They could find the Arkenstone. They had time.

"What have we done..." Whispered Bilbo from somewhere.

_We have won._

* * *

 

The beast, just like Thorin predicted was slain. The gold was now even more inviting, waiting just for them. Just for him. Within days, Thorin managed to organize his companions into searching parties. Even Thorin himself was looking for his crown jewel, despite his postition . But something was not right. The Arkenstone was here. It had to be. And yet, no one could find it. It drove him mad. It should be here.

Bilbo was fussing about him, worry evident in the Halfling's eyes as he gave Thorin his portions of food, but it was of no import, not now. When the treasure is complete, then he will be able to pay attention to every part of it, Bilbo included. Bilbo was his, that much was clear. Destiny gave him to Thorin alongside the gold. But since Bilbo was here and the Arkenstone wasn't, it was evident that the search for the Arkenstone was a greater priority. It always has been. The colours were glimmering from every corner, leading him on, pretending to be the One.

The arrival of Thorin's kin was a good news.

All of his jewels, all of his belongings in one place. And they will help searching. Of course they will. They were his.

* * *

 

The certainty he felt at the beginning was long gone. It was simply impossible that they haven't found it yet. Someone had stolen it. Some other dwarf was now holding what was rightfully Thorin's. Even Bilbo could not be beside suspicion.

When Thorin saw the Halfling sitting with something in his hand, he was almost sure. It was him, all along!

With cold fury he reached the hobbit, demanding to see what he was holding. And he saw the acorn. A little, harmless acorn, brought by Bilbo with him from Beorn's house.

He felt warmth filling him. Oak... Acorn... Bilbo. Oh, Bilbo. For a first time since the journey began, Thorin could not fight back the smile. He understood the meaning of an acorn, he understood what it possibly meant for Bilbo. The two of them kept staring at each other and the colours were shimmering around them. It felt right. The hobbit opened his mouth, starting a sentence and Thorin was sure there was nothing more important than what he wanted to say.

Then Dwalin came and brought the news about Thorin's new enemies. The colours were gone, all of them, aside from golden. This one colour stayed with Thorin all the time. It was always with him, always in the corner of his eye. Bilbo seemed to dampen it, but Thorin was not concerned. Bilbo was his, like the gold, so it didn't matter what colours Thorin could see. At least until nobody tried to take his possessions from him.

Bard tried. Bard had the guts to call Thranduil for aid and to attempt to rob him, Thorin Oakenshield, of his rights!

* * *

 

While all of them was preparing to war, the Armory proved to be keeping yet another treasure. A chainmail made of mithril, the rarest of metals, was lying on the chair, as if it was a simple cloak. Another wonderful part of Thorin's treasure, cast away in Armory! But, it was too useful to just lie around. The danger was upon them and protecting the fortune was the greatest priority. The chainmail was for Bilbo. Of course it was. He knew it the moment he gave it to the Halfling, the hobbit's eyes full of something Thorin could describe sometime ago, but what now seemed foreign to him. Nevertheless, Bilbo was precious and Thorin confined in him. There was a thief amongst them, he was certain. But which one of them would dare to rob him? The real question, Thorin was aware was - which one of them wouldn't? All of them were false,  rotten from the beginning, he was just blind to see it! Bilbo was now looking at him with fear. Why? He was safe with Thorin, safe from those robbers out there. Maybe that's why the hobbit tried to defend the invaders, these Elves and beggars siding with Bard- the hobbit was simply afraid. Yes, that must be it.

"All I hold dear is safe with me. Be sure of that, Mister Baggins." Said Thorin when he found the Halfling looking into the night from the walls. The fires of Esgaroth were burning with red flames, as if trying to melt them with sheer force.

"I am sure of that. What I am not sure is whether that's a good thing. " The hobbit replied, turning to face Thorin. His face looked ashen, yet determined. Had Thorin not seen the red flames behind the hobbit's back, he would have assumed that he lost his colours once again - all about the hobbit looked grey. 

"Go to sleep, Mister Burglar. Tomorrow, you will see what I meant about not underestimating the dwarves." Before Thorin could leave, he was grasped by two little arms and pulled into a hug. The warmth he felt before returned.

"It is lost, Thorin. We've run out of time. We had lost our chance." The hobbit whispered, but Thorin did not understand. With a loving caress, the one he reserved for the most precious of all things, for gold and the Arkenstone, he parted from Bilbo. The poor thing was tired and stressed, that was the only explanation.

Leaving the hobbit on the walls, Thorin went back to the treasury. The walls looked a little grey, but he dismissed it.

* * *

 

"I gave it to them." The rest of hobbit's words disappeared in Thorin's fury. His own priced possession turned against him! The betrayal Thorin feared came from his own mate, so the obvious thing to do is to get rid of the mate. He was now the threat to the treasure, now that he stopped being a part of it. The Halfling had to die.

When these fools refused to obey Thorin's order, with no hesitation he clasped hobbit's throat and forced the creature off the blanks. The world around him was slowly darkening, blue, red and green sweeping away from his vision. He could see the tears on betrayer's cheek, but they did not move him. And then something snapped. As if a bone being broken, Thorin felt a soaring pain and emptiness following it. The wizard's voice persuaded him to let the hobbit live. But when he released him, the emptiness was there. There was something missing, something wasn't right. Doesn't matter. Not the right time, nor place.

With the Burglar gone, Thorin could focus on protecting the rest of the treasure, even more viciously than before. The enemy might have the Arkenstone, but Dain will help them reclaim it. No one will take the gold away from Thorin, son of Thrain. No one.

Just as he was planning the protection of gold, he was interrupted by Dwalin. Dwalin, once his most trusted companion, now the same coward and robber as the rest of them. He used to care about Dwalin, long time ago, he remembered that, but how could that feeling compare to these he felt for the treasure? How could a being, a simple mortal being, claim to have more importance than a piece of treasure? He would not part with a single coin, he said that many times. And he did not intend to break this oath.

Even, if Dwalin's words, claiming that he was a worthless, miserable creature, struck something inside him. Something once called Thorin Oakenshield.

* * *

 

Thorin was confused. Truly confused. One part of him was content to just stand on the golden floor and look at it, the other wanted to get rid of it and forget. The voices were not making things easier, battling inside his memories, messing with his head. A shadow of the dragon passed him and for a moment he had trouble with distinguishing, which figure is him and which is a dragon. They have became so similar that he could not tell them apart Once, he would not hestitate.

_You have changed, Thorin. Thorin Oakenshield I knew would have never go back on his word._

Bilbo. Thorin looked around him. And saw grey. The gold was golden only in his mind. There was no hint of any colour around him. The halls, once green now looked like tombstones, cold and grey. The golden floor that  tried to swallow him whole a moment before or at least he felt as if tried, was in fact no longer golden, nor beautiful.

 _We had lost our chance_.

Now, Thorin understood what Bilbo was seeing everytime he looked at him since they entered the mountain. Now they could never be. Thorin in his foolishness had exchanged his chance for illusions, for nightmares deceiving him every step of the way.

That cursed crown had hit the floor with a remorseful thud.

. The bond wasn't there. It simply wasn't there and he hadn't noticed until now. He was neither a king, nor a lord. He was just a fool, left with nothing but regrets and dishonour to his name.

He had lost all of his chances.

Aside from one. He could still repent.

* * *

 

Thorin was amazed. After all he put them through, after his blindness and foolishness, his company was ready to follow him. Dori, Ori and Nori, whom he did not know before the quest, were now willing to die for him, if necessary. Bombur, Bofur and Bifur, not used to fighting in helpless battles, now were ready to charge at Thorin's command. Balin, who had hoped to never wear armour again was now standing by his side, along with Dwalin. With Dwalin ,who had forgiven Thorin his ungratefulness and pride. Oin and Gloin, both almost strangers to Thorin before the meeting in the Shire, were now looking at him with determination.

His two nephews, looking at him with love and respect once more. It was more than he could hope for. It was more than he deserved. And yet, it was almost not enough. The gaping hole left by the broken bond was still fresh and did not want to scar.

He didn't want it to.

* * *

 

Seeing Bilbo alive was like one miracle too many. Seeing him in grayness was a punishment. After the hobbit delivered his message, Thorin wanted him to stay. Wanted to say something, even if their time had passed. Maybe assure him, that even without their connection, without their colours, Bilbo was the treasure Thorin should have never received, for he couldn't appreciate it enough. But saying it now... It would only hurt brave Mister Baggins, it would not bring either of them any relief. Thorin had lost his chance.

A second later, he lost Fili as well.

* * *

 

Dying now, beside Azog's dead body, with a victory spreading under the Ravenhill was a blessing. A true blessing Thorin never thought he could receive. He would never be a King Under the Mountain, he was never meant to be one. He understood it now. He was not ready. He was to take back Erebor, but never to rule it. Durin's curse died along with Durin's line. The only thing Thorin was destined for was Bilbo Baggins, and this fate he failed to fulfill. Instead of accepting the hobbit, accepting his devotion, care and love, Thorin traded it for a throne.

Poor Bilbo, punished by Valars for Thorin's mistakes.

The world is getting hazy. And suddenly, the hobbit is next to him, trying to save him. If Thorin could, he would have laughed at the absurdity. He smiles instead. One, last blessing before he dies. They talk, but Thorin is not really focused on that. Instead he looks at Bilbo, seeing now all the possibilities, all of their choices he had prevented them from taking. He sees many years they could have lived together, many colourful days filled with laughter and affection. He sees both of them, old and merry, sitting with the company by the fire, telling the stories of their adventures. He sees the kisses they haven't exchanged, he sees the nights they have never shared. Maybe Bilbo will be forgiven. Maybe he will see colours once again, this time connected to someone who would cherish him and see his worth all the time. And he will forget about Thorin Oakenshield, whose biggest regret dying was that he never noticed what colour Bilbo's eyes were. He looked into them so many times and yet he never bothered to _see_.

Once, he asked Ori to draw a portrait of Bilbo, in case they will have to look for him. But the portrait was just a sketch, not revealing any colours. Thorin is not even sure what colour his own eyes were. He might say it out loud, or maybe the dying remains of their bond are still around, because he heard Bilbo's cries, begging him to hang on, but at the same time he received his answer.

_Blue as the sky, Thorin. Your eyes are blue._

With a last thought, he returns to a younger Thorin Oakenshield, standing on a threshold of a one Bilbo Baggins, looking him straight in the eyes as the palette of shades starts spreading around him. Miserable fool , thinks Thorin, closing his eyes. For a moment, he sees that younger Bilbo Baggins, the one who does not even suspect he will suffer because of the dwarf in front of him. The vision is failing Thorin now, but hobbit's face stays as it was that evening a year ago.

_Brown. Bilbo's eyes are brown._

The darkness surrounds him completely.

* * *

 

Sixty years later, an old, yet energetic hobbit had just finished his book.

Sighing, he closed the covers and looked through the window. His own tree was once again attracting birds with its marvelous, strong branches. Bilbo was proud of his little, grey oak. It was beautiful in its own way, bringing misery and happiness to old hobbit's heart.

On his worst days, it taunted him with all that could have been.

On his brightest days, it reminded him of every little wonder he encountered on his way, just as he claimed it would.

 

His life was good, if slighlty boring and he was not as alone as he thought he would end up in his age. Yes, Bilbo Baggins of Bag End had many things to be happy for.

If only the sky behind the tree wasn't so _blue_.

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to explore the possibilty of losing such bond, and of losing it irrevocably. And Thorin got in my way, thanks to northerntrash. Well... I always considered Thorin as a victim of his own pride so I decided to go with that and see what would happen. Some parts of this story are taken from northerntrash's one. It is not my best story and I'm sure I didn't do much justice to the characters, but frankly, I really wanted to explore the idea of being 'too late'.
> 
> I've chosen the movie-verse, mostly because Bilbo and Thorin had much more screentime than they had received in the books.
> 
> Oh, and the ending is probably ambigious. For me, due to his grief and being innocent of loosing their bond, Bilbo can see only blue colour. But, that's me. As my friend have said - the author is dead and has nothing to say, so well.


End file.
